


Caffeine

by MorningRose



Series: Mate [1]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Coffee, Feels, M/M, Maybe it's from stress, Other, Sniper makes good coffee, Spy smokes a lot, They're just coffee buddies, totallynotashipfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningRose/pseuds/MorningRose
Summary: “I won’t tell him.  It’s in the past.  What would it accomplish anyway?  We’d make up and go play baseball and I’d teach him how to ride a bike?  I’ve burned that bridge a long time ago. It would only hurt him now.”Spy opens up to Sniper about being Scout's father.Inspired by this: http://fat-mabari.tumblr.com/post/155733612532/okay-but-im-just-so-happy-about-everything-but





	

"So are you going to tell me the real reason you've come here or not?", taking the final sip of coffee out of his _"#1 sniper"_ mug, Sniper set it onto the kitchen counter he was leaning against and directed his look towards his certain masked colleague.  
  
The aforementioned Frenchman was sitting on a chair, finishing what could've been his fifth cigarette since he'd come to Sniper's van, maybe sixth? He had lost count, not that it actually mattered.  
  
He let out a long sigh, emitting a sizeable cloud of tobacco smoke, "Oui. I just need a moment", he finally replied.  
  
"That moment of yours has lasted thirty-seven minutes and two cups of coffee already", Sniper said as he turned towards the sink to fill the coffee pot to prepare yet another serving of the bitter beverage, "Not that I mind your company, but any conversation that starts with "We need to talk" kind of emits a hint of importance, so let's hear it Frenchie. I'm all ears", he gave the Spy a small, barely visible smile trying to encourage him to share whatever he had on his mind.  
  
Spy lit another cigarette and inhaled the addictive smoke the room would've been clouded with by now, had Sniper not opened the windows to let at least some fresh air in.  
  
"Look Bushman, it's not that easy to explain", he said, shaking some of the ash off his cigarette into an ashtray.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be the eloquent, "always-knows-what-to-say" one?", the Australian gave a short chuckle, "Never thought I'd see the day you of all people would be short for words."  
  
Spy couldn't help but roll his eyes. This isn't something to be discussed so lightly, at least in his opinion. Although he still didn't tell the Sniper what he came here for, so he couldn't really blame him. He was right though, the longer he would wait the harder it would be to finally spill the beans.

"It's about Scout", he finally said.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"He's... Well, I knew his mother 27 years ago", he took a long drag of smoke and held his breath for a few moments to savour the taste and smell of the expensive tobacco he was so used to.  
  
"... Just knew?", Sniper raised his eyebrow.  
  
"We might have had a small spark between us as well."  
  
Sniper gave a slight understanding nod, "So what you're saying is..."  
  
"Yes, Sniper. I am Scout's father."  
  
The words stayed lingering in the air. The Australian didn't say anything for a couple of moments, deciding rather to pour the Spy and himself each another cup of freshly brewed coffee.  
  
"Well, I can't say I'm surprised honestly", he finally said, taking a sip of his newly acquired coffee, "I mean, I'm pretty sure the rest of the team already knows or at least suspects it."  
  
"I didn't expect you to be surprised. I just wanted to finally come clean with it and get it off my chest", Spy put his cigarette out and reached for the now full coffee cup in front of him, "It's different when you actually say it, you know."  
  
"I guess I do."  
  
"I was young back then and couldn't accept the responsibility", he continued, "So I left. I admit it was a cowardly act."  
  
"It was, yes", Sniper agreed, "The kid could've used a fatherly figure while growing up."  
  
"You and me both know I wouldn't have made a good father for him", Spy said, "I'm certain his mother was aware of that as well."  
  
"That's one of the reasons why the rest of us here decided against convincing him as well", the Australian sipped his coffee, "No offence."  
  
Spy only raised his eyebrow at the Marksman.  
  
"Hey, the bloke denies it himself anyway", Sniper shrugged.  
  
"Yes, he keeps denying it", Spy nodded, "He decided to believe he doesn't have a father and he's not the one to blame for that."  
  
"How do you think he'll react?"  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"How do you think he'll react?", Sniper repeated his question, "When you tell him the truth yourself."  
  
"Sniper...", Spy sighed, feeling yet another urge for a smoke, "I am not going to tell him. Ever. For his own good."  
  
"But he's..."  
  
"My son?", Spy interrupted, "I have been absent for the majority of his life, Mundy. He might be my son, but I am no father to him."  
  
Sniper was going to make a retort in response to being interrupted mid-sentence, but his colleague's words caused his own words to get stuck in his throat. As if the words were physical, he cleared his throat and decided to let the Frenchman speak his mind.  
  
Spy decided to light another cigarette, an old warning from their Medic echoing in the back of his mind about the inevitable consequences of his chain smoking habit. This was probably yet another reason why he'd make a bad father figure.  
  
"It's better this way", he continued, "I won’t tell him. It’s in the past. What would it accomplish anyway?", he took a drag of smoke, "We’d make up and go play baseball and I’d teach him how to ride a bike?", he chuckled at the thought, "No, I’ve burned that bridge a long time ago. It would only hurt him now."  
  
Sniper could only nod. The silence filled the atmosphere once more.  
  
Moments passed, and Sniper finally asked, "Are you proud of him?"  
  
"With every part of my being."  
  
"Despite everything?"  
  
"Despite everything, he still is my son", the Frenchman smiled, "Mon fils."  
  
The thought actually made him feel warm inside. Despite being strictly professional during his every waking hour for years, he couldn't deny himself that small feeling of content and love. He's still only a human.  
  
When he had realized, a few years ago, that one his colleagues would be his own son, and after his initial shock („How did he get here? Why isn't he in college?“), he had phoned Scout's mother and voiced his concerns. After a long conversation she said something that's been engraved in his mind ever since.  
  
_"Keep our boy safe from harm, will you?"_  
  
And he promised her that he will. Maybe, in some weird way, this was his second chance. A second chance he had to play out carefully, but it was still worth it. Keeping the secret was easy, all he had to do was be a dick towards Scout, and it worked. It worked to that point that Scout wouldn't even want to hear about Spy possibly being his father, claiming his father is dead, or at least dead to him, or simply non-existent. It hurt a bit, of course it did, but he got used to it over time. If that's what kept his son happy and safe, he'd accept it.  
  
"Spy?", Sniper finally broke the silence.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Why tell _me_?"  
  
The Spy chuckled silently, "Because I trust you, Bushman. I could go as far as calling you a friend, despite myself."  
  
"Really? I was certain you had quite a lot of arguments to avoid me at all costs", Sniper joked in response.  
  
"I said I consider you a friend", the Frenchman rolled his eyes, "That does not mean we are going to get friendship bracelets", he chuckled at his own remark.  
  
"Sure, sure", the Marksman smiled sincerely for a moment before taking another sip of coffee. As the joyful moment had passed, the room was yet again filled with silence.  
  
After a couple minutes, he sighed, "You'll have to tell him one day, mate. You owe him that."  
  
For a few moments, Spy was silent. Finishing his cigarette, he extinguished it in the ash tray.  
  
"Yes, mon ami. I know."


End file.
